


The Widowed

by djiange



Series: Frames from Movies That Were Never Made [6]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Drabble, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:08:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28568226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/djiange/pseuds/djiange
Summary: It is early spring when Gwen comes to him with a set of chess. They haven't met outside their discussions over affairs of state since... Merlin can't quite remember. It goes back way further than Arthur's death.
Relationships: Gwen & Merlin (Merlin), Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Frames from Movies That Were Never Made [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2070306
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	The Widowed

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Frames from Movies That Were Never Made](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28255476) by [djiange](https://archiveofourown.org/users/djiange/pseuds/djiange). 



> Loosely inspired by a line from an ancient Chinese poem, "白头宫女在，闲坐说玄宗" which means there're grey-haired servants, sitting there nonchalantly, telling the story of the passed king.

It is early spring when Gwen comes to him with a set of chess. They haven't met outside their discussions over affairs of state since... Merlin can't quite remember. It goes back way further than Arthur's death.

Which is to say, it wasn't because of their status, obviously. Merlin was never the one who reined himself in before royalties, after all, not to mention that they had once served and gossiped together. Gwaine never asked about it if he ever noticed, though Merlin could see he must have made the wrong assumption.

It wasn't because of Arthur either.

Well, it was. Who is he trying to fool? But only partly. The problem between them was never Gwen's.

To some extent, Arthur was not really much of a king, but more of a princess. Gwaine did have solid points sometimes. Though it wasn't on account of things like Arthur was actually vulnerable and soft inside, or he was trained to live up to others' expectations, or he secretly resented it in the shadow of an established future which never satisfied - he was all these things, but Merlin isn't referring to any of them here. Arthur didn't conquer like a king; he waited for others to offer themselves like a princess.

And Merlin didn't offer. He would have given Arthur every piece of him as long as Arthur had said the magical words, but he would never _offer_. That being the case, nothing could happen between them, Gwen there or not.

But there was still something tickling. The same thing that broke Morgana.

Merlin was always a mortifyingly third-rate liar as much as he lied all these years. Gwen would understand, he thought. She would see through the flimsy facade he had put on for so long that he didn't know how to take it off unless someone ripped it off for him. Yet Gwen never seemed so. Or maybe she did - as that one time when her eyes met his in the crowds on her coronation ceremony, starry, limpid, _knowing_ \- she never said anything. 

They drifted apart little by little while the tacit knowledge grew bit by bit.

So it is an understatement that he is slightly taken aback seeing Gwen at the door to his chambers.

Gwen invites him to this undisturbed spot in the derelict royal garden, the woodbines and cherry trees, planted the year Morgana left, now lush under the clement shine. They talks about everything and nothing, carefully skirting around the rift they both make as though it was healed. It is nice, though, to have someone this close again. Not that he doesn't get along with Leon or Percival or even George, but this is _Gwen_. The one who should have been his mirror, his shield, his last thread of sober light.

"Morgana was always brilliant at this, unlike Arthur." Gwen says on their fifth chess session, by which Merlin decides to call it, even though that's not the point at all, considering both of them are hopeless at this game.

"I suppose so, provided that it wouldn't take much work to beat him on things like chess." Merlin mutters back.

They continue their game without more exchange. Then Gwen moves her queen as she suddenly speaks up, "I visited Morgana the other day. Leon escorted me to the lake on our way back from Nemeth."

Morgana didn't really have a proper grave for people to pay a visit. It is simply a piece of rock at the brink of the lake, ornamented with some humble flowers. Every year, after Camelot has spent enough tears on their martyred king, Merlin goes there alone. He sits beside the rock and tells the news that Gwen has lifted the ban in autumn, that they are going to start a recruitment next year and send those who aren't afraid to dream a little bigger to the Druid settlement near Ealdor, that the council actually holds nothing against the new defence policy featuring a lot of sorcery despite Uther's dogma or their general reproach on Gwen, nothing more than a charade, since the old men love arms race almost in a fetish sense.

"I knew you went there." Gwen carries on their conversation in a tentative tone. "but I didn't... I had no idea how to face her, or you, Merlin. I mean as myself, not your liege."

"It's alright." Merlin says after a pause. He has no intention to be cruel by questioning why she didn't, what changed.

"No, it's not." Gwen snaps, her jaw tense in a distressed manner. "I failed you both. I am so, so sorry."

"It was hardly your fault." Merlin withdraws his knight. "There were things that wouldn't change however you chose, and some choices were too much to ask of you. And honestly, it doesn't matter now."

"Yes, but it still hurts, doesn't it?"

"Then how about you? Don't you hate me for all the things? My lies, my indifference? What a monster I have always been?" Merlin lets the words slip. He's so painfully conscious of the grudge in his voice he regrets it immediately.

But Gwen answers him with a sad smile, "How could I ever hate you?"

Gwen moves her queen again, chasing the knight.

"You should." Merlin doesn't try to hide his sullenness this time.

"Then like you said, it doesn't matter now."

They keep playing. The portico is quiet, only the gentle hums of nature ringing in the air, yet too noisy, echoing with the loud larks of a young lady and her brother from the dim and distant past.

"I'm glad he had you with him in the end." Gwen says a few moments later, putting Merlin's king into checkmate, "I wasn't there when Lancelot was gone. He was fortunate to have you."

"He would have been better off without me, from the beginning." Merlin leans back against the ivy-covered pillar.

Gwen only shakes her head.

They walk back to the castle at dusk. The tension is still hanging there, and Merlin decides he doesn't fancy it much after all, so he asks as they part at the junction of the corridors:

"Would you like to come with me next year? You could give Leon a little bit of rest."

"Sure," Gwen looks at him. "Sure."


End file.
